


Jello-Suspicious!

by BradyGirl_12



Category: Jurassic Park (1993), Jurassic Park (Movies), Jurassic Park - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Drama, Hospitalization, Hospitals, M/M, Male Slash, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 12:52:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4180545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BradyGirl_12/pseuds/BradyGirl_12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian laments being stuck in a Costa Rican hospital after the Incident on Isla Nublar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jello-Suspicious!

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Major character death; disturbing imagery  
> Spoilers: For _Jurassic Park I (1993)_  
>  Original LJ Date Of Completion: June 15, 2015  
> Original LJ Date Of Posting: June 21, 2015  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Amblin Entertainment and Universal Pictures does, more’s the pity.  
> Original LJ Word Count: 1423  
> Feedback welcome and appreciated.  
> Author’s Note: This is the first _Jurassic Park I_ fic I wrote, though not the first I posted. Enjoy! :)

Ian Malcolm felt ragged around the edges, but that was nothing new. He had felt like raw sandpaper ever since the disaster on Isla Nublar. He would just be happy to get as far away as possible from Costa Rica and its neighboring island as soon as possible.

He was grateful for the morphine. His leg had required surgery, broken in more than one place, and the pain had been mind-numbing in the park, but he had almost welcomed it. He’d needed to keep a sharp mind, wary of being drugged while dinosaurs roamed the earth without 10,000-volt fences to keep them at bay.

Everyone had gone home from the island and he was still stuck in this hospital with his screaming nightmares and lack of knowledge of Spanish so that he felt more isolated than ever. The staff whispered about the crazy gringo and he couldn’t blame them. 

Ian drank a glass of water, grateful that it was cold from the pitcher on his nightstand. He looked out the window at the harbor and gloomily thought of his medical bills. Well, John Hammond and InGen were going to get those, and if the families of Donald Gennaro, Ray Arnold and Robert Muldoon were smart, they’d sue the pants off Hammond and his accursed company for wrongful death times a thousand. No, a million. _Several_ millions.

He’d liked both Arnold and Muldoon. Arnold was a chain-smoking cuss who had been wary about some of Hammond’s ideas, and Muldoon had definitely spoken his piece, declaring that the raptors should be destroyed. His insights on the creatures’ intelligence showed his own savvy, and Ian had been very glad to see Ellie and Robert Muldoon on that rainy night of terror when they had found him…

& & & & & &

_Working together, Ellie and Muldoon managed to get him into the jeep. A dazed Ian heard the words, “We’ll have to leave Gennaro,” by the game warden. “Can’t afford the time to find all the parts.”_

_It was only after his rescuers had gone down to check the tour car for survivors that the fog of grogginess had finally lifted. Now he could really feel the pain his mangled leg. And what had Muldoon said? Donald Gennaro was in **parts?**_

_Ian glanced at the remains of the rest room. He remembered seeing the lawyer scramble inside “(“When ya gotta go, ya gotta go”) and then the T. Rex had roared and all thoughts of Gennaro had fled._

_The sense of horror crept up on him. **What a way to go!** He felt sympathy for the dead man._

_**Ending up a dino snack is not my idea of a dignified way to go.** _

_But then, of course, he heard the **thoom!** of the T. Rex’s heavy tread, and the pools of rainwater had shaken. He was immobile and the carnivore was coming back. He was too scared to scream. Instead he urgently demanded that Ellie and Muldoon get in the jeep so that they could get the hell **out** of there._

& & & & & &

And what a nightmare that had been! An angry T. Rex chasing them as it bellowed, getting closer and closer…despite the futility of the gesture, Ian had shielded Ellie.

Ugh, me man; you woman. Me hunt and gather; you cook.

As a cool breeze blew in through the hospital window, Ian marveled at what remained after millions of years in human psychological DNA. Women were more capable than ever of taking care of themselves these days, but faced with a Tyrannasaurus Rex man reverted to prehistoric type and protected woman.

_And those kids._

It had killed him and Alan to watch the children menaced by the monster, but there was little they could do against such a beast until Alan had thought of the flares. Ian had copied Alan’s actions but he hadn’t been so successful. Fortunately the force of the animal’s blow had knocked him unconscious and he had been spared listening to Gennaro’s bones getting crunched in dinosaur jaws.

_Now I’m depressed again._

He sank back into the pillow and stared at the walls. He was going to have a lulu of a nightmare tonight.

“Hey.”

Ian snapped his head around. A big grin spread across his face. “Alan!”

The paleontologist wore a matching smile. He shook Ian’s hand and pulled up a chair as he pushed back his hat. “You’re looking good.”

“It’s all this yummy hospital food. No matter where in the world, all hospital menus taste the same.” Alan nodded sagely and Ian leaned forward conspiratorially. “But there’s no jello,” he whispered.

“Uh, no jello?” Alan had leaned forward to meet him.

Ian nodded solemnly. “Ever know of a hospital that didn’t serve jello?” He leaned back. “Or maybe it’s an American hospital thing?” He slammed his fist down on the bed. “I am jello-suspicious!”

Alan leaned back, too. “Are you pumped full of morphine?”

“Some. Though I don’t like too much. I wanna keep a clear head. I can’t understand anybody around here so I have to be sharper than ever, y’know?”

“Can’t argue with you there.” Alan lightly rested a hand on Ian’s leg cast. “Can I sign this?”

“Sure.”

Alan smugly produced a black felt-tipped marker and carefully wrote on the white plaster. Ian craned his neck. “What did you write?”

“Read it later.” Alan pocketed the marker. “So, what’s your story? When are they springing you from this joint?”

“Well, from what my translator says, anywhere between tomorrow and next Christmas.”

“You have a translator?” Alan crossed his arms.

“She’s a nurse on the day shift. On the night shift there’s a lot of pantomiming.” Ian sighed. “That’ll learn me to take some Spanish lessons when we get back. Damn all those French classes in high school.”

“Why French?”

“Cute girl was taking it.”

“Ah.”

Ian nearly kicked himself for saying ‘when we get back.’ ‘We’? What ‘we’? There was no ‘we’, just him stuck in this hospital without even lemon jello for company.

“So how’s the dig going?”

“Pretty well, actually. I left Ellie in charge. At first I thought I’d be apathetic about digging up old bones after seeing living versions, but I realized those old fossils weren’t going to eat me.”

Ian snorted. “Always a plus.”

“Are the bills ridiculous for this little hospital stay?”

“Not for me. John Hammond and InGen will get that privilege. I may sue for pain and suffering, too.”

“You’ve got a case.”

“No kidding.”

Ian thought of the time spent alone in the touring car after Ellie had opted to remain with the tricerotrops and the vetinarian. After the power went out, they had time to kill while the rain poured down. It had been intimate and Ian had enjoyed learning more about Dr. Alan Grant.

_And I want to learn more._

He was sure that they had made a connection. He wanted to explore that connection. He was tired of marriages that didn’t last, partly, he suspected, because his interest lay in a different direction.

“So, how are the kids?” Ian asked.

“Pretty well, considering. Though I see a lot of therapy in their future.”

“I’ll take some of that.”

Alan nodded in agreement. Satisfied, Ian rested back against the pillows.

“You need anything? Another shot of morphine?” Alan asked. Ian was pleased to hear an undercurrent of anxiety in the other man’s voice.

“Nah, I don’t want too much of that stuff. I’m an addictive personality.”

Alan smirked. “Booze or women?”

“Neither.”

Alan’s eyes widened slightly. He slowly put his hand on Ian’s cast. After a moment of meaningful looks Alan said, “Let me go talk to your doctor.”

“You’ll need an interpreter. Nothing like your surgeon talking through one as he describes what he’ll be doing in the O.R. to your leg while you wonder if you’ll be able to walk normally again. Very relaxing.”

Alan patted his cast. “Don’t worry, the Calvary’s here.”

Ian felt himself smiling. “Mount up.”

“Oh, I will.” Alan tilted his hat brim down with a wink and left the room.

Ian felt a thrill through his groin. Things were looking up.

_At least when I wake up screaming, there’ll be someone who understands._

For how long, he didn’t know, but he figured he was going to need someone. None of his exes could understand. Hell, he wasn’t sure _he_ understood! 

He read what Alan had written on his cast.

& & & & & &

When Alan returned, he found Ian peacefully asleep with a smile on his face and his hand resting over the words on his cast. 


End file.
